remade, and a cheap sailor hat with flowing blue ribbons. The little
girl was acting, Tilly thought, in a very queer way, for when Tilly
approached the door the child lowered her head and with shy, furtive
glances moved on, but as soon as Tilly disappeared she would return to
the gate and stand peering over it in timid curiosity.

"Strange," the young wife mused, and when the little girl made no show
of leaving, Tilly decided to speak to her. So, going suddenly to the
porch, she called out: "Wait, little girl. Do you want anything?"

The head of the child hung down till the brim of her hat hid her eyes,
and if she made any reply it was spoken so low that Tilly did not hear
it. Tilly now went to her and leaned on the gate.

"Did you want anything with me?" she asked, most kindly, as she scanned
the incongruous attire in half-amused wonder. The answer was delayed,
but it finally came from lips rendered stubborn by embarrassment:

"I--I wanted to see you, but--but I thought maybe I'd better ask John
first. He hasn't been over home yet, and I don't know whether he'd want
me to come or not. He told me about you, Tilly. He told me, and nobody
else, and I didn't let a soul know, either--my aunt, or Liz, or any
one."

"Oh, I see! I know now. You are Dora, aren't you?"

"Yes'm," in great relief and with a lifted face. "I see. Then you know
about me?"

"Oh yes, and you must come in and see me." Tilly opened the gate. The
little pinched face appealed to her, as well as the child's crude
timidity. Dora stepped gingerly inside, her coarse, ill-fitting shoes
grating on the graveled walk. One of her little hands was loosely buried
in a woman's black kid glove, the mate of which was damply clutched in
bare fingers, the nails of which were jagged and black. By Tilly's side
she clumsily moved along till they had reached the porch steps, where
she paused hesitatingly.

"I almost feel like I know you," Tilly went on to reassure her. "Somehow
I almost feel that you are John's sister. I don't know why, but I do.
Would you care if I kissed you?"

"Kissed me?" Dora started and stared blankly. "You mean-- Huh! you don't
want--"

"This is what I mean, you poor dear little thing!" and Tilly bent down
and kissed the wan cheek. "There, now, you must come in and see our new
house. John will not be home till nearly dark."

"I don't know whether John will fuss or not," Dora said. "Maybe he
wanted me to wait till--till he told me. I don't